This Heart Is Not on Loan
by misscam
Summary: It's a gift, she knows. His to hers, hers to his. Never lend hearts. Adama/Roslin


This Heart Is Not for Loan

by Camilla Sandman

Disclaimer: Not my characters, only my words.

Author's Note: References to episodes up to 404. Fairly vague and not hugely spoilery. Thanks to lyricalviolet for beta - and falena84 for being a smashing sounding board.

II

The first time Laura Roslin meets Bill Adama, she will forget it.

It's a Tuesday on Caprica, spring sun not yet warm, but people still lifting their faces to it almost unconsciously. It's been a long winter, in human relations more than weather. Conflicts. Anger. Strife. Change now, at least the hope of it.

She's in a hurry, he is not, and he moves out of the way just slightly as she passes, earning a smile from her. He notes the gleam of her hair in the sun, just for a second.

They move on, strangers passing by. For now.

Spring will pass to summer, time will claim another year and another and another, people will live and die and love under Caprica's sky.

Until it falls.

The first time Laura meets Bill, she forgets. It's just another Tuesday. Just another stranger. Just another spring. There doesn't seem to be anything about it to remember.

She doesn't know, can't know, can't even imagine.

In a few years, almost all who lived it will be gone.

II

The first time Laura sees beyond the Commander, she's just told him to put personal away.

Like father, like son, losing perspective in unison. One life over the rest of humanity, and she knows she is right. She knows it enough to defy the borders Commander Adama has set between them - him military, her everything else.

She can feel Lee's desperation more tangibly, but the father's is also there, more silent but no less potent.

It makes her wonder.

One life over humanity. That's love. That's something they can't afford to lose perspective over.

That's something they can't afford to lose at all, she thinks, and keeps wondering.

II

The first time Laura suspects Adama might be a Cylon, she is determined to kill him if he is.

It's not just that he would be a danger to them all, she knows. It's more. It's that he's a partner, an opposite, a leader with her and it would be personal. So very personal.

Surviving with the enemy. One up from sleeping with it, and she intends to do neither. She'll have him killed if he is a Cylon.

Just not without second thoughts.

II

The first time President Laura Roslin thinks about frakking Commander Bill Adama, he's just thrown her in the brig.

Her first thought, granted, is to airlock his ass, after having yelled, demoted and otherwise raged against him. It's the second thought, no less angry.

Slamming him against the bars, she thinks. Biting down on his lip enough to taste blood. Tearing the uniform off. Straddling him, letting his body yield the power he's tried to steal from her.

Taking back. That's what it's all about.

She did break his word to him, she knows. But he's broken a trust. Perhaps that is equal footing again. After a fashion.

She still has no intention of staying there, of course.

II

The first time Laura considers that Bill might be a friend, he's just offered forgiveness unasked and unrequested, as friends do and military leaders and presidents don't. You frak up in the military, she knows, there is punishment and forgiveness earned through consequences taken. You frak up in politics, second chances only come when all others are dead.

This is more, then.

This is Bill, offering a new go, unity and support for her, if not in what she believes. This is softer than she's seen before, as if closeness to death has stripped away part of his shell. She can understand that. She lives that. For now, until she reinforce it.

"Thank you, Bill," she tells him and means it.

It might be nice to have before the end.

II

The first time Bill kisses her, Laura isn't expecting it.

It has become a friendship, a partnership, a shared burden of hard choices. He respects her, she knows. Not just her office anymore. He trusts her with books - "it's a gift, never lend books" - and thus part of him. (What you read is part of who you are, after all. She's a teacher, she knows that.) He'll miss her when she is gone.

She didn't really consider beyond friendship. Perhaps there isn't beyond, the kiss more gentleness than desire, more respect than claim. Perhaps there is, his eyes never leaving her. Perhaps.

It's just when he smiles at her, she thinks she might have liked a chance to know for sure.

II

The first time Laura Roslin gives up, it's because a friend has caught her.

She knows she is right. Baltar is damage to them. She knows she is. It doesn't make Bill wrong - stealing an election has never been right before. It's just in this time, in face of that leader, she is willing to do for people what they need, not what they want.

Bill doesn't quite understand, she knows, and she feels his disappointment. For a while, she entertains the idea that he might go along with it, but no.

He doesn't let her steal an election. He just lets her get away with an attempt. Not going against her, but not quite with her either.

She begins to wonder if that will always be their relationship.

II

The first time civilian Laura talks about the future, she shares it with Bill.

Cabins and clear streams and living in the moment, and he nods and listens and looks at her, drinking and smoking and being silly together. Life in little moments.

She forgot there was life there too, she thinks, caught up in survival. She still thinks New Caprica will fail. It's just, for a night, she can see why people would hope otherwise.

When Bill falls asleep, she rests her head against his chest and listens to his heartbeats, thinking about her cabin.

It would have to have room for two, she decides. Just in case.

II

The first time Laura knows Bill considered a future too, he's just asked her about New Caprica and she's just given him a book.

Presidency restored, fleeing Cylons again, lives saved and lost, secrets exposed and friendship still holding, and now he chooses to show a hint of something more. The timing confuses her. The intent does not.

He is a good boxer, she thinks. He knows when to duck and when to surprise his opponents with a knockout. He isn't Adar, going for what he wants. He's Adama, thinking about what he wants. Sometimes, she half wonders what he does to her in his mind.

Sometimes, when he looks at her, she doesn't have to wonder at all.

II

The first time Laura knows her cancer is back, there's only one person she wants to tell and can't muster the heart to.

A very dark part of her is grimly satisfied. Now she'll be the leader of prophecies again. Now she can believe. Now it will save her people.

Another part is howling.

In the end, he finds out when his son forces her hand, and she hates both a little for that.

II

The first time Laura wishes she didn't love Bill, he is reading to her.

It's another way of making up, she knows. His way. But she finds herself wishing he didn't, that their fight as left as it was, that she could have only anger and hurt. He complicates things. He makes her want to live, to save all the stories, to never find Earth so she can cheat the Gods.

She wants to prepare him for her death and all she's managing is to want to live.

The admiral, she can prepare. Just leave files and advice and space for political maneouver so he'll have what he needs. Bill... Bill is impossible. Bill fights and resists and breaks her heart by refusing to let it go.

Dying for all of them, she reminds herself. It can't be enough to live for just him.

Can it?

II

The first time Laura sleeps with Bill, she isn't even sure who initiates it.

It could be her, she supposes. He isn't above taking a lead from her. She might have steadied on him a second longer than needed. She might have leaned into his space, taking comfort in the sound of his breath. She might have touched his hair, and his cheek, and the corner of his mouth, wishing they would curve. She might have kissed him.

It could be him, she supposes. He isn't beyond making a move. He might have let a hand rest on hers. He might have helped her take her jacket off. He might have touched her lips, telling her she should laugh more. He might have kissed her.

It could be both of them, she concludes. Always both of them, his hand on her hips, steadying her rhythm, her hands on his shoulder, keeping her balance. It is both of them, sweat mingling, bodies fusing, breaths blending.

Yes, she thinks.

Yes.

II

The first time Laura tells Bill, he isn't awake.

Another night in quarters. Another day of treatment survived. Another step towards Earth. Nothing particular about it, except that it is another day.

She never takes that for granted anymore.

He is sleeping, hair still slightly ruffled from her hand. It's not every time they sleep together, not with what her body is forced through with medicine. But it is enough that this is a romance now, the last she will have.

He loves her. He hasn't said, but she knows. Not everything needs words. He'll grieve her more for it, and she carries the guilt for it. But, oh but...

"I love you," she says against his ear, feeling his breath steady to her voice.

It's a gift, she knows. His to hers, hers to his.

Never lend hearts.

II

FIN


End file.
